long sixer

what kind of texan am i not sharing a six pack with my readers in such a long time?

my opinion exactly – so here’s a six pack of lessons i learned the last week or so…

one…

maybe the loneliest number, but four can be the ugliest – especially when it comes to baby a’s purple margaritas. the menu says they’ll stop you at two. the menu LIES. i have had them let me down three before. that was bad enough. but FOUR? well, it did make the post baby a’s trip to the adult video megaplexxx a lot more interesting.

cool water

quite honestly, the coolest invention EVER is the jacuzzi – especially when it’s four feet from a hotel bed and actually IN the bedroom. i’ll spare you the rest of the details, but i SO want one of these at the house. swimsuits prohibited unless you’re a guy. or chunky. okay, let’s move on before i REALLY start to offend people here.

sweet as…

no matter what tone of voice, how sweet you try to be, or how much you try to back track, NO waitress likes to be called “sugar snatch”. learned this one the hard way. typically the presence of a woman and the subsequent kick to the shins would have alerted me to this social faux pa, but she was in the restroom at the time. yet another all night eatery i am TOTALLY not welcome in any more. personally, i still blame the purples.

hey, your catalog hints it’s okay...

so, part of the weekend was spent shopping at the mall, and included a trip to abercrombie (she also got me to try on stuff at banana republic – the odd stuff love makes you do, eh?). but as seems to be abercrombie tradition, they have too few dressing rooms for the store (they tried to blame it on the remodeling, but in truth they’ve been that way forever). so, after an extensive wait in line, it was my turn, and i just motioned for alex to come in with me so we could save time. the door to the dressing room is a full door, so once you’re in you’re in this small, windowless room that nobody can see in…

and no, we didn’t do anything – although we probably should have.

we were in long enough to where one of the sales guys knocked, but i SWEAR it was only ’cause i had three pairs of shorts and jeans (their size 34 is to big for me – do you know how cool that is?) and alex had two pairs of jeans. that’s a lot to slide on and off and take advantage of not being alone and get a second opinion on appearance. but when we walked out, most of the people in the store (none of the staff, though) were staring at us – and a lot of them kept doing so as we milled around a couple more minutes until we left. the moral? i guess if you go in the dressing room at a&f leave your h.l.g. outside lest they get f.r.f.o.

(those would stand for “abercrombie & fitch”, “hot latin girlfriend”, and “freaked right fucking out”)

we’re much cooler now…

one thing that made the h.l.g. a little TOO hot was the fact that my car a/c totally died her most recent weekend in. it meant we spent more time in the hotel (oh, damn) and more time in the mall. but i DID look into getting it fixed. the insta-lube place (not the real name, and now that i read it back it sounds a lot more like a porn store, eh?) near work was having a sale on a/c service, but the one near the mall was NOT. they wanted fifty bucks just to hook my car up to their machine, plus twenty bucks a pound in coolant. no way i was gonna spend seventy-plus to get car a/c charged.

after she left, i started to head for another place that advertised to do it for seventeen bucks plus coolant, but then i remembered when they worked on my buddy’s transmission, discovered (caused?) a major oil leak, and didn’t tell him. he got his car back after three weeks in the shop only to have it seize up on him 100% oil FREE two days later. dead engine. not worth the repair on an ’84 volvo. so i passed on them, too.

i went to the autozone where i got my battery and bought a kit with all the hoses, pressure gauges, and three cans of coolant to do it myself. it’s a seven step process which even when you’re running mentally slow in the morning takes twenty minutes and only took one of the cans of coolant. so now the a/c blows ice cold and i have enough coolant to cover me probably longer than i’ll keep the damn car.

but here’s a tip…

if you ever decide to do this, read the directions IN ADVANCE, and skip step one at first. you see, step one is where you start your car and crank your a/c, which makes your engine run hotter. by the time you get your coolant hooked up to the hose, and go to hook up the hose to your car, your engine is about twenty degrees warmer than the SUN. and when you torque the handle the last little bit to get the coolant to release into your a/c, you inevitably hit your knuckle into the block, causing a (not so) cute burn on your hand. so learn from my mistake and get everything all set up and THEN turn on your car, hook it up, and go. that’s what i’m gonna do if i discover a second can is needed in the coming weeks.

and that concludes auto shop class for the day.

was i a dick?

so, the other night i went and saw the day after tomorrow for two bucks – and it was worth it. before the movie i was hanging out at sharp things. after the movie, i went back. when i walked up, chris (piercer) had forgotten where i’d been, and asked if i’d gotten lost. when i reminded him, he asked me what i thought. i started to critique the flick a bit, with him jumping in with his opinions as i did, as is our tradition.

NOW, the whole time we’re having OUR exchange, this girl who was waiting on getting some ink work done is attempting to not just join the conversation, but harpoon it (which given her size, is kind of an ironic term to use). as i would get louder to drown her out, she would get louder to drown out me. after about sixty seconds of her trying to talk over me in a conversation that didn’t include her in the first place, i turned to her and said (yelled), “do you EVER shut the fuck up?”. she stormed off into the studio pissed.

go figure.

i went in, said hi to kevin while he tattooed some punk chica’s inner thigh, and went back out front. the girl was back outside with everybody glaring at me.

(to clarify, only she was glaring – left my participle on the dangle there).

“ya know, that was just fucking RUDE…”

“well, ya know, talking over someone when they’re trying to speak is rude, too…and you wouldn’t stop. so, i did what i had to do. sometimes you can only stop rudeness with rudeness”, i replied.

“whatever. you were just an asshole”

“correction. i AM an asshole. and you were a rude bitch. it’s just i’m more efficient at being rude than you are. get over it. you are SO not worth my time trying to debate this…”

and she shut up. believe it or not, by the end of the night we were dogging on drunk people together and laughing. i’m not one to hold a grudge over something that petty. but after she was gone, i was made to believe that my actions were a bit extreme. i say you can’t argue with results, and that in that scenario she DID need to shut the fuck up. what do you folks think?